


but some words must go unsaid

by 0eu



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimitri POV, Dirty Talk, Dom Byleth, Dom/sub, Fanart, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Trans Male Character, Trans My Unit | Byleth, extremely vague spoilers?, featuring: byleth wearing the sexy enlightened outfit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-12-24 20:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21105602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0eu/pseuds/0eu
Summary: Dimitri squeezes his eyes shut as he feels nothing but love, love, love.





	but some words must go unsaid

“Just for tonight, I am not your archbishop. Nor are you my king,” Byleth whispers into Dimitri’s reddening ears, tracing the line of his jaw with a curled finger. Dimitri suppresses a shiver, and stares up at Byleth defiantly, sharply aware of the cold marble below his calves, forcing its chill through thin underclothes and into his skin and bones.

“What shall I be, then?” he questions, head tilting.

The man chuckles above him, almost innocently. “An obedient _slut_.” He circles casually around Dimitri as he kneels, the clicking of his heels echoing in the vast, lavish quarters.

He bows his head, letting his consciousness zero in dizzily on Byleth’s blinding presence through the dim glow of flickering candles. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what, Dimitri?” Byleth’s clear voice cuts through the fog.

“Yes, sir.” His face is burning, letting the flames of humiliation and yearning burn a trail of fire across his body. This should be improper. He is the king, after all. And yet, here he is, on his knees, presenting himself to the man that was his professor.

But that means nothing now.

“Good boy.” Dimitri feels a hand ruffling his hair in praise, the touch like a shock of electricity straight into his groin, and he writhes. 

“Prof—”

“Silence,” Byleth commands.

Dimitri presses his lips together, staring at Byleth as he moves to stand next to the giant bed that is the centerpiece of the grand chamber.

“You will only speak when spoken to, or I shall have to punish you. Say ‘crimson’ or tap me twice if you want to stop. Understand?”

Dimitri nods.

“Come here, Dimitri.”

He does so, making his way to Byleth, wincing as his cock chafes against the material of his underwear. Under Byleth’s watchful eye, he sits on the edge of the bed and waits.

“You’d like to fuck me, wouldn’t you? Shove your cock inside me like an animal? Answer me.” Byleth’s words tumble around in Dimitri’s thoughts, bringing to mind past fantasies of Byleth. He envisions fingers, trailing red-hot down Dimitri’s chest, pinching and scratching. The warmth of Byleth’s mouth as it envelopes his hardness, burning and wet as he tongues at him, his calloused mercenary’s palms stroking at what his lips could not reach. The mewling noises that Byleth makes as Dimitri pushes into him, illuminated by the fuzzy glow of dreamscapes.

The carnal desires that Dimitri had slain and extinguished over those five long years crawl back into the forefront of his mind. 

“Please…” he gasps.

Byleth laughs again, pushing against Dimitri’s chest with his right palm until the coolness of the silky bedspread meets his bare, scarred back. With a flourish, Byleth pulls off Dimitri’s smallclothes, leaving him flushed and exposed.

“What would your people think, to see their wonderful new king like this, so debauched and eager under their archbishop?” Byleth murmurs, crawling over the man’s prone body until he’s straddling Dimitri’s naked thighs, still fully clothed in the robes of his holy raiment. “What would they think, seeing you so filthy, _Your Majesty?_” 

Dimitri wants to open his mouth, to say, _It matters not what they think, as long as I am with you, _but Byleth’s warning has him pursing his lips once more. 

At Dimitri’s silence, Byleth smirks, leaning down to touch a finger against his closed lips. “That’s right. You’re a whore, are you not?” Byleth lets his hand travel down further, outlining the smooth, pale curve of Dimitri’s neck, his pulse thrumming under Byleth’s index finger as he begins to grind down lightly against Dimitri’s straining cock. Just enough to tease him, dangling the allure of pleasure just out of reach. Dimitri’s eyes flutter shut as the idea of soiling Byleth’s sacred robes overwhelms him. What sacrilege, to ruin such hallowed garments with the consequences of base desires?

“…Ah…” he pants, and tries to roll his hips upwards to meet Byleth again, only to be held down roughly at the collarbone, a clear sign to stop. 

“I don’t recall allowing you to do that, little slut.”

Dimitri grits his teeth and squirms a little under the hold. They both know that Dimitri has the strength to easily break out of this without a second thought, but somehow… Dimitri’s mind is only telling him to _obey_.

“That’s right. Stay there… stay still,” Byleth whispers, as he grinds down once again, making Dimitri choke back groans of elation, pinned hard against the bedsheets, completely vulnerable as Byleth moves against his cock, separated by mere layers of fabric. “You look so beautiful like this…” he mutters, flicking and rubbing at Dimitri’s nipples, sending another urgent jolt of want through his body. Byleth grins as he watches them peak in the cool air. He resists, holding himself back from meeting Byleth’s heat, letting the praise wash his thoughts blank. “You’re so obedient, so good for me,” he says, hips dragging heavily above Dimitri’s length, surely throbbing now, through all the friction. 

With yearning clouding Dimitri’s reason, he brings his hands to Byleth’s hips almost involuntarily, pressing his fingers into the thick clothes, chasing that elusive touch—only to have his hands torn away from Byleth’s body and pinned above his head.

Byleth smiles. “Naughty, naughty. I had expected more obedience from the likes of you,” he says, tilting Dimitri’s chin up as his other hand tightens the hold on Dimitri’s wrists, nails pressing little crescents into his skin. “How shall I punish you?” A rhetorical question.

Dimitri answers anyway, hardly registering the shaking of his head.

Ignoring him, Byleth reaches into his coat, drawing out a long length of cotton rope, which he knots deftly around Dimitri’s wrists with a single-column tie, securing him to a bedpost. Dimitri doesn’t bother struggling against it.

Byleth lifts himself up and off Dimitri, stepping off of the bed, leaving him tied to the post, much like a rebellious animal grudgingly accepting discipline.

“Byl—sir, please—” The choked words die in Dimitri’s throat.

He hears rustling, and the sound of unfastening buttons, drawstrings being pulled through golden eyelets, the clear jangle of glittering, golden accessories and—

Byleth’s weight presses down over Dimitri’s trembling thighs, the man himself completely disrobed. A trail of shiny moisture slips down his bare legs, dripping and sliding from slick folds. Dimitri is dimly aware of Byleth pressing two fingers to himself, and smearing the fluid in a line down Dimitri’s abdomen. 

The sound of blood roars through Dimitri’s ears, akin to a beast declaring its desire. Oh, how he longed to reach out, to press his lips against that scarred and supple skin, to drag his tongue along that line of juices and into Byleth’s pulsing cunt… forgetting about the woven cords that bind him to the bed as he attempts once more to press up against Byleth, to no avail.

He grunts, hips bucking uselessly into the chilly air, Byleth’s smug half-smile barely visible through the haze of _want_ that befogs his mind.

With nary another word, Byleth lowers his face to Dimitri’s hardness, licking a slow stripe from the base of the cock to its tip, and he gasps at the sudden spike of euphoria, Byleth’s warmth like liquid fire. Seemingly pleased at Dimitri’s reaction, he places a gentle kiss on his tip, a swipe of precum now adorning Byleth’s lips like a vulgar lip gloss. Dimitri moans, both at the sensation, and the thought of Byleth doing something so crude. Byleth licks his lips clean, and gives Dimitri another kiss, this time pressing his tongue along his slit, and Dimitri almost thrusts straight into the man’s mouth, his every instinct screaming at him to break free from these foolish restraints, bury his hands into the Professor’s soft, jade-colored hair, and ravish him until he comes deep into Byleth’s throat.

But the part of Dimitri that is still rational—enough to bow down in submission—is disgusted by those intrusive thoughts of disobedience, and he is left writhing in the braided ropes as Byleth nuzzles so sweetly against his cock. Byleth kisses it reverently, a stark juxtaposition to the degrading words that make his heart stutter in both shame and arousal.

“What a _good boy,_” Byleth says to his cock, breathy words caressing his sensitive cock with a teasing breeze, feather-light. Dimitri twitches, wholly involuntarily.

Finally, _finally, _Byleth opens his mouth and begins sucking in earnest, hollowing his cheeks as the tip of Dimitri’s cock nears the back of his throat, bringing tears to his eyes. 

Dimitri feels himself unravel, dissolving into a molten singularity of pure pleasure. Byleth’s mouth, burning through Dimitri’s defenses and memories of past celibacy, engulfing his cock, sticky with saliva and precum. His own hands grip so tightly within their prison he could scarcely tell whether the moisture was sweat, or blood from nails digging into his palm. The bedposts creak and shudder, the frame itself quivering from movement as Dimitri digs his heels into the plush mattress.

Byleth strokes Dimitri languidly, all the while slurping and letting the wet noise of his actions echo shamelessly around the room. Dimitri groans again, feeling his orgasm approaching like a wave about to crash headlong into rocky cliffs, Byleth’s hand and mouth working better on his cock than any touch from himself. He licks and kisses hard, with one hand rubbing at the bottom of Dimitri’s girth, and the other in a grasp squeezing his thigh, hard enough to bruise, and—

The wave stops, with Byleth’s fingers closing firmly around the base of Dimitri’s cock like a cruel shackle, barring him from climax. He throws his head back into the pillows, his moans now incoherent chants of “please, please, please”, and hisses of Byleth’s name working their way out from behind clenched teeth, begging him for mercy.

He mutters, “Look how quickly the slut turns to beg,” and Dimitri cries out again, tugging against the ropes leashing his wrists to the bed as Byleth traces a swirling pattern down the length of Dimitri’s hardness with his pointer finger, left thumb and forefinger still locked around Dimitri’s cock. Slowly, Byleth loosens the hold, and brings Dimitri back to the edge again, again, and again. His throat turns hoarse from holding back sobs, and his legs tremble as they surround Byleth, continuously touching him but denying him a true release. Leaning forward, Byleth pinches at his nipples once more, leaving his cock throbbing and ignored. “Have you learned your lesson?”

Tears start brimming at the corners of Dimitri’s eyes, unbidden. “…Yes…”

“Good boy. You’re so perfect… Such a good slut. You took your punishment well,” Byleth sighs, running his hands along Dimitri’s sweat-slicked sides. “Look at you, so desperate and leaking.” Suddenly, he stands, high above Dimitri as he lies restrained. “I think you’re deserving of a reward.”

_Reward. Reward. Reward. _

Slowly, slowly, Byleth sinks to his knees, pressing his dripping entrance to the head of Dimitri’s cock, letting the tip slide around his labia as he thrusts his hips forward slightly. Dimitri shudders in overwhelming anticipation, twisting restlessly below Byleth, mind and body crying out for release. With a chuckle, Byleth flicks at his clit idly as he grinds harder and deeper onto Dimitri, until he finally feels himself slip past those wet folds, into Byleth’s tight heat, and everything else fades away from Dimitri’s mind, except himself and the delicious notes of Byleth’s sharp gasp as Dimitri fills him. 

“Yes…” Byleth groans, “You’re so thick, so hot.” He pushes himself off Dimitri, and back down again, the squelching of fluids and flesh chorusing obscenely with the dual cries of pleasure as their thrusts meet each other in the middle.

Dimitri babbles, rendered speechless by the sheer strength of overpowering lust, the pressure surrounding him, the heaviness of Byleth’s hands, braced upon his chest as he rides Dimitri, in pursuit of his peak. Casually licking his index and middle fingers, he lowers a hand to his clit, rubbing at it wildly, knuckles grazing against Dimitri’s length as it drives further and deeper into his lover, and Dimitri sobs, completely overcome with emotion and sensation. At last, he’s one with his beloved, joined together at their hottest, most intimate place. Together, in a peaceful world, no less. Mere months ago, he had abandoned all hope of seeing Byleth ever again, bitter and resentful at everything and nothing, for his professor had left him, isolated in darkness as conflicts—old and new—torn him apart.

Until one day, that fateful day, Byleth had returned as an unexpected beacon of light in his endless gloom, like the moon and stars that illuminate the long, frigid winters of Faerghus. He was daybreak, the sun that chased away the darkness, the harbinger of a new day.

And Dimitri burned in the light, his shell of shadows falling apart to reveal old murmurings of devotion, and adoration.

After five painful years of solitude and self-loathing, Byleth had slipped back into his life, as if all was good and well, as if Dimitri was supposed to ignore those agonizing months and years where he had buried all the affection and tender love left in his heart within the rubble of the ruined monastery.

But those feelings weren’t dead, and now, Dimitri squeezes his eyes shut as he feels nothing but love, love, love.

_I love you, _he wants to whisper, to the man fucking himself silly on Dimitri’s cock. _Never leave me again. I wish to be by your side until the end of time. _

Before Dimitri has the time to finish that thought, Byleth clenches _hard_ and comes with a violent shudder, his fiery-hot center spasming around his length, and he, too, falls into an ecstasy, spilling his seed into Byleth, pouring his very essence into his most precious person. 

The stiff, red ropes around his aching wrists snap and shatter, and Dimitri pulls Byleth down, kissing his swollen lips and tasting himself on Byleth’s tongue. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until the salty bite of tears drips past his lips, and he presses himself harder against Byleth’s mouth, kissing as if this is their last day in this world.

_Marry me, _Dimitri wants to scream._ Let us spend the rest of our lives together._

But some words must go unsaid, for he is the king, and Byleth, his archbishop.

**Author's Note:**

> :flushed: i've never written porn before


End file.
